Coming Home
by hpjkrowling4ever
Summary: SS/HP. The Great War changed everyone. Some people more than others, and sometimes it's harder to forgive. Sometimes you just have to fight and take revenge for what you think is right. Maybe you have to do the unforgivable. Maybe that's all it takes to keep your family safe. And Merlin knows that Harry will do anything to keep his family safe. COMPLETE


_A/N:_ _Due to a frustrating writer's block, I've written a little one-shot with the pairing of_ _ **Severus Snape/Harry Potter**_ _in an_ _ **established relationship**_ _. This is the Christmas holidays of their son's first year at Hogwarts, and takes place_ _ **15 years**_ _after the Second Great Wizarding War. That means that_ _ **Harry is 32**_ _, and_ _ **Snape is 53**_ _. Harry and Snape have been married since Harry was 20, thus they've_ _ **been married for 12 years**_ _and had been in a relationship prior to that. Ron and Hermione are together with kids, Malfoy is with Astoria Greengrass with Scorpius Malfoy being the same age as Harry and Snape's son and the second boy mentioned in the train is the kid of Neville and Luna. Everyone was having kids early –Harry and Snape a year into their marriage. I apologise in advance for the cliché title. And Snape's name changing throughout the one-shot is intentional._

 _Disclaimer:_ _Anything Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling or any other company or person with copyrights to Harry Potter. Any characters not belonging to the Harry Potter series belong to me._

* * *

 **Title:** Coming Home

 **Author:** hpjkrowling4ever

The shouts on the train were very different this time round; they were ones of joy, of laughter and of anticipation. Every compartment seemed to be competing for the prize of loudest talker, and voices flowed over each other and into even the quietest crevices of the Hogwarts Express.

In one such compartment, four young boys were getting changed into Muggle clothing, each of them talking about their families with voices laced with almost hysterical excitement. Each one of them was babbling over the other, and occasionally fell silent when one of their friends said something of interest. There was much hand waving and laughing at the more outrageous Muggle clothing produced, or silent admiration at the more sophisticated, and believable, clothing worn.

The tallest boy, with russet hair and brown eyes, was dressed in a pair of sensible jeans, a shirt and trainers. He was talking animatedly over his friends, gesticulating wildly and occasionally either accidentally slapping a friend in the arm or tripping over his own feet in his excitement.

The boy next to him, with plain brown hair, large owlish glasses and bright hazel eyes, was dressed in an odd combination of colourful shorts, a black shirt and a leather jacket. He wore a pair of neon trainers and was indeed a sight for sore eyes. He was also talking loudly to his russet-haired companion and objected angrily to most things he was saying.

Another boy sat on the ground pulling on a pair of short, ankle-length leather boots. He wore a hideous khaki short-sleeved t-shirt and tight beige jeans and was laughing good-naturedly at a joke that had been casually thrown his way. He had platinum blonde hair and steel grey eyes.

The fourth and final boy was sitting on the seats, pulling on a pair of socks. His vibrant, emerald green eyes shone as he took in the joyous atmosphere around him and he would unconsciously shake his long, shoulder-length black hair out of his eyes, eventually tying it up into a low but stylish ponytail. He wore black jeans and a dark green polo shirt and beside his feet sat a clean pair of white trainers.

"I was ready to swear that Professor Snape was going to explode –no offence intended, Alf." The russet-haired boy was saying, and he looked anxiously over at his emerald-eyed friend as he said it. Alf chuckled and tied the lace on one of his shoes.

"It doesn't matter, Mike, I've heard _way_ worse." Alf replied. "Anyways, Papa warned me about it before I cam to Hogwarts. He was willing for me to go to a different school if it meant I wouldn't be teased about him being my dad and all that."

"Yeah well, at least you don't get all the hate my dad gets." The blonde-haired boy said, tapping his aristocratic nose as he said this. "Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater, et cetera, et cetera. One would think that they had nothing better to talk about fifteen years after the war, but no."

"Stop complaining, Scorp." Alf shot back. "Your dad is your only parent getting the attention, but then I have to be the son of bloody Harry Potter and Severus Snape."

The boy with the glasses pulled them off and started rubbing them on the hem of his shirt.

"I like them."

"It's not a question of whether or not you like Papa or Dad, Killian. I love them very much, I just wish people would leave my dads alone." Alf grumbled, pulling on his final trainer and finishing the laces with a flurry. His friends all started sitting back down on their seats as the conversation turned to Alf's parents –a source of immense fascination among this circle of unusual friends.

"Is it difficult to love Professor Snape?" Killian asked, his eyes wide with fascination, reminiscent of his mother's rather large, protuberant eyes. Alf's neck snapped as he turned towards Killian and his eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean, is it difficult to love Papa?" Alf asked, his voice dripping with venom.

"I don't mean to offend," Killian said, looking completely unconcerned that he had done just that, "It's just that, you know, being a Ravenclaw, I'm deeply interested to know what characteristics there are to _love_ in Professor Snape."

"Alf! Alf!" Mike snapped his fingers in front of Alf's face as his friend started staring furiously at Killian. "Deep breaths –you know how Killian is. You _can't_ take offence. And plus, you're excited; that always counts for something."

Scorp shook Alf's shoulder until his friend snapped out of his torpor and then whispered something in his ear. The two other boys looked on curiously when Alf started laughing.

"Sorry, Killian. I didn't mean to get so angry. It's just…you know that Jeremy has been teasing me about Papa ever since the start of term and I haven't wanted to tell him about it." Alf sighed, thinking of the second-year Gryffindor bully whom Professor Snape especially despised due to his lack of concentration in Potions. "Scorp reminded me of the time when he'd asked me the exact same question, about two years ago, when Uncle Draco was over at Snape Manor and Papa had just flipped because Scorp had broken his favourite vase. It ended well, though."

Almost as soon as Alf had finished this, the compartment door opened and a tall, good-looking teenager of about sixteen stood in the doorway. His hair was bright turquoise and he was dressed elegantly and stylishly, and he leant against the doorway in a casual way that made it obvious he knew how good-looking he was and how popular he was.

"Teddy!" Alf shouted, and stood up. "Dad sent me a letter yesterday asking if you were coming over on Christmas Day, but I forgot to tell you."

"You little Slytherin rascal!" Teddy laughed good-naturedly and ruffled Alf's hair affectionately. "Thank Merlin that Harry sent me a letter. We both know you too well."

Alf started mumbling in a disgruntled fashion to himself, while Scorp rounded on Teddy.

"There's nothing wrong with Slytherin, I'll have you know. And Harry obviously thought the same because he married Uncle Severus!" Scorp said, crossing his arms and looking so mutinous that Teddy couldn't hold in his grin.

"You're biased, you little Slytherin." He looked fondly at Alf and put an arm around his godfather's son's shoulders. "I wouldn't have you any other way."

* * *

On Platform 9¾, Professor Severus Snape was contemplating the _Daily Prophet_ as he sat on a bench. Around him, younger siblings and harried parents were talking loudly, but true to his fashion, he blocked out all the sounds and immersed himself in reading about an unfortunate woman who had spilt an engorgement potion onto her kitchen floor.

Behind him, a tall, handsome man dressed in Auror robes was creeping up towards him, a mischievous smile on his face. No one had noticed him yet, and he seemed to be relishing the relative anonymity. Crouching behind Professor Snape's bench, Harry Potter jumped up suddenly and grabbed the unfortunate Professor around the neck.

Professor Snape whirled around, his wand held aloft, and relaxed when he saw whom it was. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to his paper and started perusing a different story. Harry came to sit beside him.

"Anything about me?" he asked, brushing off some dust.

"You sound so presumptuous. Don't expect the world to revolve around you, Potter." Professor Snape murmured without looking at his companion. Instead of looking angry, Harry started chuckling and looked over Professor Snape's shoulder.

"Nah, nothing worth reading. I don't understand why you still read that trash."

"Because, Potter, I, unlike _you_ , can read between the lines. Coincidentally, they also have an excellent Potions section."

Harry laughed and nudged Professor Snape affectionately. The Potions Master folded his paper neatly and Vanished it, before taking Harry's hand in his own and squeezing it.

"Are you nervous, Potter?" Professor Snape asked. To them, though it seemed exceedingly strange to their friends, 'Potter' was Professor Snape's way of showing his deep love for Harry. It was a term of endearment, as Professor Snape had always said that nothing but the name truly mattered to him. Whenever he called his husband 'Harry', it was always in a special, or incredibly private moment. It was usually when they were in their room, and alone or in front of their son. Their friends had only ever heard Professor Snape call Harry 'Harry' once, and that was at their wedding.

"Terrified." Harry whispered to his husband. "I'm so scared that his first term hasn't gone well. What about all the rubbish surrounding our marriage and us? Do you think he's been teased? I mean you're there. Has he been teased? I love him so much, Sev, and I hate that we're always those black shadows constantly crowding him."

Professor Snape leant back against the bench and looked at the clock. Ten minutes until arrival. He then looked back at his husband and in an uncharacteristic display of public affection, kissed Harry's temple. Harry relaxed minutely and smiled nervously.

"Thanks." Harry squeezed his husband's hand in return. "I know you've missed him as well, though you don't say it."

Professor Snape did not reply, but over the twelve years of their marriage and the few years they had had before it, Harry had learnt to read his husband well, and the way Snape's hand was tapping rhythmically against his leg told Harry what he needed to know.

Soon, the train was rolling into the station and people had started flocking near it, like subjects called to their monarch. From the train, shouts could be heard and trunks had started appearing on the platform. Professor Snape and Harry didn't move from their bench, unwilling to enter the melee, but both had leant forwards to see if they could catch the face of their son through the thick, curling white steam.

* * *

As the train rolled into the platform, Alf and his friends jumped up and raced to the nearest exit. They weren't the only ones to have that bright idea, and were soon squashed against the windows. Alf could clearly see the platform approaching, and his eyes sought out the familiar, safe figures of his parents. They weren't near the front of the crowd or near the back of it, and for a moment, Alf thought that they hadn't come. But then he caught sight of a figure dressed entirely in black sitting on a bench and a wide smile split his face.

The doors opened and Alf temporarily lost sight of the bench his parents were on. He shouted hurried goodbyes to his friends and then, to try to get his bearings, he went towards the pile of trunks and found his own one –a bright green one. He remembered buying it and smiled as he remembered his Dad's protests that they were indoctrinating him against Gryffindor. Homesickness and longing for his parents weighed down on him and he pushed through the crowd in the vague direction of where he had last seen his parents.

Suddenly, Alf was picked up by his waist and whirled around in a circle. Alf felt his heart beating wildly with shock, but then he smelt the familiar smell of his dad and he wrapped his arms around the strong shoulders.

"Daddy." He murmured into Harry's neck, using the rather childish title for his dad. He had missed Harry's strong hugs and cuddles by the fire, and the easy comfort he always offered Alf when he was feeling ill, or sad, or even scared.

"Hey, Alf." Harry kissed his head and then put him down onto the floor. Alf turned to see his Papa standing there, a thin smile on his face. Alf, who knew how to read Professor Snape, just as well as Harry did, knew that was the equivalent of one of Harry's wide, beaming smiles. Alf threw himself into his papa's arms and felt the wiry arms encircle him and squeeze him tightly.

"Why hello there, you little brat."

Alf laughed and stood on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around his papa's shoulders. Professor Snape pulled him up and kissed his head just like his dad had. To Alf, though, his papa and his dad were both very different. His papa was the steady, constant presence who always talked sense and made sure that nothing came easily to Alf –Alf had to think hard if he wanted to know what something meant or how something was done. His papa also had the sarcastic humour and was the one who found it difficult to express his emotions. Alf always thought of him and his dad helping his papa with that problem. His dad, on the other hand, was the anchor, the one who laughed the most and made the jokes. He was the balance to Professor Snape's reluctance to engage in physical activities. Despite this, Alf knew that his papa appreciated every hug and every kiss his son and his husband gave him, and it made Alf proud to know that only he and Harry could read Professor Snape properly.

"How was your term?" Harry asked once Professor Snape had let him go. They started walking towards the exit.

"It was really cool!" Alf started bouncing on the spot, and Harry smiled widely. Professor Snape smirked.

"Tell me, what was that letter I received from Headmistress McGonagall about blowing up a toilet?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is that your idea of 'cool'?"

Alf looked in horror at his dad before seeing a twinkle in his eyes. Slapping him on the arm, Alf ran ahead and turned back just before going through the wall.

"Come on!"

* * *

That evening, as the family of three sat around their fireplace, Alf started talking to them about life at Hogwarts. He was cuddled up against Harry on the large sofa and both were holding steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Snape was sitting on his 'special' armchair nearest to the fire with a warm mug of tea in his hand.

"Papa must have told you how Hogwarts has changed, Daddy. You can't want me to tell you _everything_." Alf groaned, looking beseechingly at his papa for backup. Snape chuckled.

"I hardly tell your dad anything, Alfred Snape. Now, please do deign us with your words. Hogwarts from a student's perspective is much more entertaining than from my perspective. And Merlin knows your dad's mind is stuck on his younger self."

"I take offence from that, Sev." Harry said dramatically, putting a hand to his heart. "You wound me!"

Alf chuckled and savoured the family atmosphere surrounding him. He honestly _missed_ this at Hogwarts. There was no close companionship there, or the easy feeling of trust and love that flowed between them, even inside a house. Slytherin was probably the most united of the houses, but even then there was backstabbing and lies.

"It's really different to what you told me it was like in your day, Daddy." Alf knew all about Hogwarts before the war. "I mean, to encourage inter-House unity –that's the phrase Headmistress McGonagall used– they have a table with the first-years on it and the first years now sit there despite their house. I have friends in Ravenclaw."

Snape smiled in satisfaction at Harry, who smiled back. It had been at Harry's suggestion that Professor McGonagall had started thinking of ways to encourage inter-House unity.

"You seem to be the living, breathing embodiment of inter-House unity, Alf." Snape said. "Who is that rabble of brats you're always walking around with?"

"Well there's Killian, who's Professor Longbottom and Luna's daughter."

"You knew him before Hogwarts." Harry pointed out, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

"That doesn't count. I only knew him a few weeks or so before Hogwarts. I thought he was too weird before that." Alf replied. "Then there's Michael from Gryffindor, who's Ron and Hermione's son and then there's Scorp."

"This 'rabble of brats', as your papa so eloquently put it, aren't strangers to you. You practically grew up with Scorp." Harry said. "You and Scorp are as close as brothers and spend your whole lives in each other's houses."

"You always knew that Scorp and I were going to be friends at Hogwarts. Mike was always a loose rocket. Gryffindor and Slytherin still have a bit of enmity between them, but at least Mike's got a brain between his ears and knows when to shut up."

"A good trait to have amongst you lot of Slytherins." Snape nodded approvingly. "I was quite surprised, I admit, when the young Longbottom child was Sorted into Ravenclaw."

"He's got his own brand of cleverness, Sev, just like Luna did." Harry said, easily defending the young boy he'd only met a handful of times.

"What about lessons?" Snape asked. "Did my tutoring before Hogwarts help you out?"

"Well of course it did. I'm the top of my class." Alf said it matter-of-factly. "I knew how to hold a wand and how to wave it for the first-year incantations better than anyone."

Snape smirked and sipped his tea smugly. Harry snorted into his hot chocolate at his husband's expression and Alf looked between his parents in confusion.

"What's happened?" he asked.

"Your papa is being silly. Come on, it's time to get you up to bed. The Malfoys are coming here tomorrow morning and I don't want you to be in a grouch. Sev, we'll be no longer than fifteen minutes." Harry stood up and stretched before putting down his half-finished hot chocolate and taking Alf's empty mug and putting them down on the coffee table. He then walked up the stairs with Alf.

Alf's room was a large, spacious room with beautiful wallpaper showing scenes from Alf's life. They were painted in with meticulous care and did not move, but it was enough for Alf. They added themselves in every time Alf muttered the incantation for it and it was already full of paintings from his Hogwarts life. Alf's bed stood in the middle of the room on a soft, woolly carpet. It was a small-sized four-poster bed with a Quidditch quilt. Harry went over to it and sat on the bed and watched Alf as he started getting ready for bed.

Once Alf had washed his teeth and was changed, he hopped into bed and Harry sat beside him. Alf tugged on his sleeve and Harry nudged off his shoes before lying down next to him. Both of them looked up at the ceiling above Alf's bed, which showed a particularly memorable day when Harry had persuaded Alf and Snape to go picnicking.

"You okay there, Alfie?" Harry wrapped his arm around his son's shoulders and felt him curl up closer to him. The nickname was something very personal to Alf and whenever anyone else used it apart from his parents he was apt to lose his temper, especially if they made fun of it.

"I missed you, Daddy." Alf mumbled into Harry's shirt. Harry squeezed his shoulder.

"I missed you too, bud."

"It was really weird not being in my room and not being with you and Papa all the time. I found it really hard the first few weeks." Alf admitted. "Your letters really helped, but I was scared to go to Papa. He's really scary during term time."

Harry made a mental note to talk to his husband about this, but in front of his son he simply kissed his forehead and said,

"Your papa _is_ scary at school, I know that firsthand, bud. But I promise you that if you ever had any problems your papa would be there for you. Remember, he's also your Head of House and is _there_ for you to talk to." Harry looked at Alf. He had inherited Harry's small stature and was often prone to teasing about his height. "Your papa loves you very, very much even if he finds it difficult to tell you that he does. Never, ever forget that, okay?"

"Yeah, it's just difficult when I see him at school and he's so different."

"He has to inspire respect in his students, and I promise you that I will talk to your papa about this, but you've got to cut him some slack, okay? Never be scared to go to him, ever." Something clicked. "Alfred, are you being teased about Papa?"

Alf's silence told Harry everything. He sighed and looked sternly at his son.

"Alf, you can't hide stuff like that. We offered to allow you to go to a different school if these problems were affecting you. If you were homesick, your papa could have helped you. But we'll talk about this tomorrow, as a family, okay? Right now we're happy you're home with us."

As Harry said this, Snape walked into the room and perched on the other side of Alf's bed. He didn't kick off his shoes like Harry had done, and instead leant back against the pillows, and joined his arms to Harry's around their son's shoulders.

"I know that school may be difficult and challenging for you, and I'm sorry that I'm part of that reason, Alfie, but I will have you know that I…" Snape paused and his voice dropped to a whisper. Harry looked at him encouragingly. "I love you, young man, and I am proud of you."

Alf's eyes swam with tears for a few seconds before he blinked them away and sat up to hug Snape tightly. Snape hugged him equally tightly back, and Harry leant over to join in on the hug.

"We'll talk tomorrow, Alf, but for now, you're home and that's all that matters."

* * *

Later that evening, as Harry and Severus lay in bed together, Severus spooning Harry and running his long hands through his husband's hair, Harry broached the topic of Severus being unapproachable.

"Sev?" Harry asked, turning around so that he was facing his husband, nose-to-nose. Severus' onyx eyes looked into his and all Harry saw there were love and support and years of memories made together. Severus continued playing with the strands of Harry's hair.

"Mmhm." Severus murmured to show that he was listening.

"Alf's a bit scared of approaching you at Hogwarts."

Severus hummed to himself for a bit, thinking over what Harry had said.

"Do you remember our wedding vows?"

Harry looked surprised at the irrelevant question, but humoured his husband. More often than not, Severus had always had a point to his questions.

"How could I forget them?"

* * *

 _Their wedding took place in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, in the place where they had first seen each other, and when everything had started. It had taken months of organising, because dignitaries and reporters all wanted to attend it, and towards the end Harry and Severus had left it to Draco, Astoria, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley to organise, with the occasional contribution from them._

 _Harry remembered everything like if it had been yesterday._

 _He remembered how that one night in Sixth Year he had broached the topic of his mother with Severus and it had all spiraled, over a period of time, into a relationship. Where they made up two halves of a whole, where Severus balanced out the reckless part of Harry, where he helped Harry understand the true meaning of the word loyalty, of the word trust._

 _Because Harry trusted Severus. And for two war heroes, trust was the basis of every relationship they had. Harry had never trusted anyone like he trusted Severus. Severus who was tender, Severus who was kind, Severus who talked sense and Severus whom he trusted. He was a completely different person to Professor Snape, and Harry loved how he was the only person who could properly tease Severus, who could read him like a well-worn book and whom he knew Severus trusted above everyone else._

 _Severus had always been gentle with him, down to the very last thing he did with Harry. His potion-stained fingers had become something to love about him, something that made Harry's tea every morning with the same care it made potions, something that held Harry through the nightmares and something Harry held tight when the nightmares overcame Severus. Severus had shown him what pleasure was with absolute trust and Harry was honoured to have been the one proposed to._

 _That was what lead him to this very Hall, where hundreds of people stood, watching him. Harry could probably only name a handful, but in the aftermath of the war, so many people had wished to attend their Saviour's wedding that Harry could not refuse them. At that moment though, he only had eyes for Severus who stood tall at the end of the aisle. Harry could see the nerves running through his husband-to-be –it was obvious to Harry by the way his fingers were clenching and unclenching beside him._

 _Soon he was beside Severus, and they shared a glance before turning to the officiator, Professor McGonagall. She raised an eyebrow at them and started saying the words needed to bind them together for life. When she reached their vows, they turned to each other and Harry took Severus' hands in his._

" _Sev." Harry whispered the name before clearing his throat. "I can't put everything into words, Merlin knows how bad I am at doing that._ _You_ _know how bad I am at doing that. But what I have managed to put into words is the most important." Harry paused and felt his throat constricting. He looked searchingly into Severus' eyes and only saw support. "I trust you. I will trust you until my very last breath, I swear to you. People have asked me why I trust you when you could easily slip a poison into my morning tea." Harry took a step closer. "I know you wouldn't. I promise to never doubt you, I promise to love you. But most of all, I know that I can trust you, and that matters more to me than anything in the world."_

 _Severus swallowed a few times before moving his hands on top of Harry's._

" _Harry." Severus said clearly and eloquently, in contrast to Harry's voice. But this close to him, Harry could see his Adam's apple bobbing nervously and it reassured Harry. "Thank you for bringing me back to life." Severus took a step closer so that they were almost touching. Their joined hands were clutched tightly, desperately to his chest. "I promise to always, always be there. I promise to be the best I can be with you." Severus lowered his voice so that nobody else but Harry and Professor McGonagall could hear. "I will trust you forevermore."_

* * *

Harry shook himself out of his memories and looked back at his husband. His face had changed, had become more lined with age, but the new lines were ones of joy, not sadness, and laughter, not tears. To him, Severus' face was as familiar as his own.

"I know that I can trust you." Harry repeated, raising a hand to stroke it along Severus' cheek. "But I don't think that Alf knows."

"I know that Alf finds it difficult socially, and I rather fear that I am the cause of that." Severus said remorsefully. "Despite this, I also think that he lets social expectations get the better of him. I have always been there for him."

Harry kissed Severus gently on the lips. Severus pulled him closer and rested his head atop of Harry's.

"I have never doubted that you have, Sev. I think that someone is causing trouble for Alf. You know as well as I do that Alf has always had Scorp with him as his closest friend and that social situations have never been an issue for him when Scorp has been with him. I think that someone is making Alf feel insecure about going to you when he's homesick."

Harry felt Severus tense against him and he quickly sat up, putting a hand on his husband's chest.

"No, Sev, you can't go to confront your son." Harry pulled his husband back down into bed and watched him critically as he lay back down beside Harry, a moody look on his face. Severus had always been intensely protective of Alf and had often been particularly ferocious when dealing with any criticism of Alf. When once a reporter had published an article about how it was 'unfair' to have a child when you were both of the same gender and 'intensely famous', Severus had ruined his career by throwing an angry lawsuit against said reporter and then sending angry letters to him, the words on each piece of parchment dripping with vitriol. Harry knew that the boy, or girl, who had been taunting Alf, would bear the full brunt of Severus' anger.

"I hate the thought that someone could be doing that to Alf." He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Harry moved to sit on top of Severus, straddling his husband's chest. Severus' hands came up to trace patterns on Harry's thighs. "Of all people, don't you think that Alf deserves not to be teased for his parents' mistakes?"

"We didn't make a mistake, Sev." Harry murmured, dropping down beside him. Severus' hand kept tracing patterns on Harry's thigh. "We _love_ Alf, and people find it difficult to accept that we led a life after the War. It annoys some people that we didn't keep working for them."

There was a long pause and then Severus moved so that he was suddenly hovering over Harry. Pushing himself up, Harry wrapped his arms around Severus' neck and kissed him deeply. He would never tire of doing so, and by the way that Severus had moved to a sitting position to get better access to his mouth; he didn't think that Severus would either. Panting, they were soon forehead-to-forehead, and Harry smiled against Severus' mouth. He felt Severus smile as well.

"I love you." Harry whispered breathlessly.

"I do too." Severus replied, before pushing Harry back down onto the bed and proceeding to kiss him passionately.

* * *

A few hours before the Malfoys were meant to arrive, the Snapes convened into the dining room to discuss the problem that had arisen the night before.

Alf felt distinctly uncomfortable. The rather austere dining room of Snape Manor had always been where they had had serious discussions, the last one being whether or not Alf was to go to Hogwarts. He saw that his papa looked mildly annoyed, and his dad looked disappointed. Alf _hated_ disappointing his dad and started fidgeting on his seat. Snape coughed and Alf stopped picking at his sleeves and turned to look at his parents.

"Is someone bullying you, Alfred?" Snape asked bluntly. Alf knew that he was in trouble by the use of his full name and swallowed nervously. "Alfred, I would recommend that you answer me."

Alf nodded. Harry sighed in exasperation and put his head into his hands. Alf saw his papa's long fingered hand go towards his dad's and squeeze it gently. His dad gave his papa a tired smile before turning back to him.

"Who?"

"A second-year Gryffindor." Alf didn't really want to say any more, but at his papa's insistent look he muttered, "Jeremy Thomas."

"The spoilt idiot!" Snape slammed his fist onto the table angrily. "He's the most _infuriating_ student in the world. He's worse than you were, Potter!"

"That's saying something." Harry murmured, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Alf smiled. Snape turned to glare balefully at Harry.

"Don't interrupt." He turned to look at Alf. "I don't understand why you listen to that sorry excuse for a human being. The Muggle writer Shakespeare put it accurately: 'God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man.' Why he has any effect on you at all, I don't know. You're miles brighter than he is."

Alf looked thoroughly chastised and ashamed of himself and Harry took pity on him. Shooting Snape an angry glance, he stood up and knelt beside Alf, taking his son's hands in his.

"Alfred, look at me." Alf looked into his father's familiar, soft eyes. "Your papa is not angry at you, he's angry at the Gryffindor. He is mostly angry that at himself, that he didn't leave his job before you came to Hogwarts so that you could then have a relatively normal life."

"I'm your son." Alf pointed out. "I can never be normal. I've probably been on more newspaper clippings than any other child my age."

"And we are dreadfully apologetic about that, Alfred." Snape said, joining Harry and putting a hand on Alf's shoulder. Alf looked up at his papa. "We cannot change who we are and we curse the existence of every reporter who dares to approach you. Why should they attack you for who _we_ are? We are quite fond of you, Alfred, and I am furious at that Gryffindor for attacking you in this way."

"He stopped you from _going to your own father_ for comfort. That is such a hideous crime in our eyes because we've only ever been there for you. Your papa and I love you and we want to protect you from evil people like that, who think that you have it all." Harry squeezed his son's hands tightly and was surprised when Alf stood up, bringing Harry and Snape with him. He looked them both in the eye.

"I was stupid to listen to Jeremy, and I should have known better than to let him get to me." Alf took a deep breath and Harry longed to take him into his arms and protect him from every possible evil, but he knew that his son wanted to get this off of his chest. "I'm always going to have to deal with people who are jealous of me because you're both famous." He grinned. "Thanks, dads." They smiled back wanly. "But they have a right to be jealous of me, because, despite what you say, Dad, I _do_ have it all. I have two parents who love me, a beautiful house, a friend I'm really close to, I go to a good school, and, though this is more a hindrance than a perk, I'm famous. That's as good as it gets."

Harry felt his eyes prick with tears and pulled Alf into a hug. He felt Snape's arms wrap around them both and he close his eyes to savour the moment.

* * *

"Looking as untidy as ever, I see, Potter." Draco Malfoy remarked as he stepped elegantly through the Floo.

It had taken a while for Harry and Draco to work through their antagonism, and, helped along massively by Snape, they had eventually become quite good friends. Draco had been a great support when Ron and Hermione had started going out together and excluding Harry, and Harry had found that Draco's mind was full of reckless ideas he had never really had the opportunity to try out. They now got on like a house on fire and most people found it astonishing that they could insult each other so much and still remain good friends.

"I'm quite astonished that you haven't decided to take up being a vampire as your full-time job, you're so bloody pale, Malfoy." Harry replied, before taking Draco into a brief hug. Draco had always had a bit of an issue with Harry being gay and had stipulated quite early on that the amount of touching was to be kept to the limit. Harry thought that it was because Draco was immensely attractive to gay men and therefore felt quite uncomfortable when one touched him.

Snape was greeting Astoria and they had both started talking about the latest Potions line the Malfoy business was developing. After the Wizarding War, it had taken a while for the Malfoy name to regain its former respectability and it had been greatly helped along by the fact that Astoria Greengrass came from a Light pureblood family and she had willingly married into the Malfoy line. They worked very well as a couple and had set up a well-known Potions line.

Scorpius Malfoy suddenly tumbled through the grate to the general hilarity of everyone in the room. He was a contrast to his father's perfect appearance, for even in private Draco Malfoy could seem to be nothing but completely put together. Scorpius Malfoy, on the other hand, had mussed up hair and looked like he had just stepped off of a Quidditch pitch. His outer robes were on the wrong way round and he was covered in soot.

"Scorpius Malfoy, you are a tarnish on the perfect Malfoy name!" Draco said in exasperation, before waving his wand and muttering a few handy spells. Scorpius' hair fixed itself and his robes righted themselves, leaving Scorpius looking entirely more polished. Alf ran into the room after hearing the voices and smiled widely at Scorpius. Then, remembering manners Snape had drilled into him from a young age, he turned to greet Astoria and Draco.

"Hi, Draco, hi Astoria." He paused and accepted their greetings in return before turning to Snape and Harry. "Can Scorp and I go outside now?"

Rolling his eyes in a martyr-like manner, Snape nodded and then waved the adults into the comfortable and smaller drawing room.

* * *

"My dads found out about Jeremy." Alf said as he and Scorp walked through the beautiful gardens of Potter Manor.

"Oh ouch, what did they do?" Scorp flopped down heavily on a patch of comfortable grass next to a willow tree and Alf followed him. They stared at the small stream bubbling merrily through the garden. They leant against the willow tree and Scorp reiterated his question.

"They brought me into the dining room." Alf answered in a monotonous voice.

"Poor you." Scorp knew of the significance of the Snape dining room, and Alf knew that the equivalent of that in the Malfoy household was Draco's study. "Was it really bad?"

"They actually blamed themselves more than anything for what I have to go through. I hate that so much. Why can't the world just leave us alone?" Alf asked in exasperation.

"If I had an answer to that one, I'd tell you. But keep talking, what else did they do?"

"They didn't punish me, but Dad was really disappointed that I hadn't told them." Alf sighed sadly. "I feel really bad for not telling them, especially for not telling Dad. I should've known that it wouldn't be kept quiet. Dad's the Head Auror, of course he'd guess something was happening."

Scorp squeezed Alf's shoulder in a demonstration of solidarity. Alf smiled and then turned his attention to the stream, and remembered the many happy days they had spent splashing in it.

"Do you feel like getting wet?"

Scorp pondered on the question for a moment.

"I can't get in any more trouble for being a stain on the Malfoy family, can I?"

* * *

The holidays passed in much the same way, Scorp and Alf meeting up almost every day, alternating between Snape Manor and Malfoy Manor. It passed in a haze of happiness and good memories, only tempered slightly by the holiday work the teachers had set.

In the week leading up to Christmas, Harry was sent on a mission for the Auror Department, which for some reason seemed to affect Snape quite badly. Having discussed possible outcomes of a conversation with his papa on the subject with Scorp, and deciding that the results of it would far outweigh his papa's reaction, Alf decided to broach the topic. Thus, three days into his dad's mission, Alf knocked on his papa's Potions lab door.

"Come in, Alf." Snape's deep baritone rang out, and Alf entered his papa's Holy Grail.

It was a place of immense comfort to Alf to go down there, and he rather suspected that it was the same with his papa. Alf loved Potions, both as a subject at Hogwarts and the actual potions. He loved the smells of them and the look of them. He loved creating them or adding new ideas to old potions, and his Hogwarts textbook was already filled with annotations he had written down to improve the poems.

"Papa?" Alf asked as he made his way to his papa, who was stirring a thick potion. Alf frowned; it was the Wolfsbane Potion, but the modified version that his papa had been creating for Teddy Lupin, who suffered when it was the full moon, but did not turn into a werewolf. "Are you okay, Papa?"

He heard his papa sigh angrily and he cast a silent Statis Charm on the potion.

"Is this really the time, Alfred?" Snape asked, running a shaking hand through his long hair, so similar to his son's. Alf nodded nervously.

"I'm worried about you, especially since Dad's gone away."

Alf saw his papa's knuckled go white at those words and the reason for his papa's worry and anxiety suddenly hit him.

"Are you scared for Dad?" Alf asked, standing close beside his papa, who seemed more vulnerable than scary now that he had worked out the reason for his papa's worry. "But he's done loads of Auror assignments before. Why is this one any different?"

"Let's move this conversation to the living room." Snape said firmly, taking his son's shoulders and steering his towards the living room. "I should not have taught you to deduce things so well. You're entirely too clever for your own good."

Despite the possibility of hearing something really serious, Alf smirked proudly.

Once they were sitting comfortably with a cup of strong coffee for Snape and orange juice for Alf, Snape started talking.

"Fifteen years ago, as you very well know, your dad defeated the Dark Lord and peace has reigned over the Wizarding World ever since."

"Yes…" Alf murmured, unsure where this was going.

"Now, I assume that you have learnt in your History of Magic classes about what the Dark Lord's followers were called?"

"Death Eaters." Alf replied, feeling a shiver run up his spine. "They were called Death Eaters."

"As you also know due to the idiocy of the press, I was once a Death Eater. During the height of the Dark Lord's power, there were many Death Eaters."

"But you weren't a proper Death Eater, right, Papa?"

Snape looked his son in the eye and took a deep breath.

"The Dark Lord would never have accepted me if I hadn't been a proper Death Eater to start off with." Alf's eyes widened minutely. "But, you are indeed right, young Master Snape, after a rather serious mistake on my part, which I deeply regret, I stopped being a 'proper' Death Eater."

Alf looked smug.

"You were clever enough to fool Lord Voldemort. Dad told me."

"Your dad puts too much value on what I did." Snape sighed. "However, because of the sheer number of Death Eaters around, there were still some left after the Second Wizarding War. Due to your dad's efforts, most of them were captured and every single Death Eater, including your godfather Draco and me were put through trials, and they were so strict that no guilty Death Eater could have escaped them. Many people were sent to Azkaban.

"There was one Death Eater, however, who managed to escape. Only one of the inner circle Death Eaters, those trusted explicitly by the Dark Lord. His name is Antonin Dolohov."

"That rings a bell." Alf said, wondering where he had heard that name before.

"Now, you know your dad's godson Edward, is that correct?" Snape asked.

"Of course I know Teddy! He looks after me when he can at school and he comes and talks to me and we eat together every Thursday at Hogwarts. He's going out with Victoire Weasley."

"Of course he is." Snape nodded. "Now, Dolohov did something which directly concerns Edward. He killed Edward's dad, Remus Lupin." Alf put a hand up to his mouth. "Remus was a kind man, a clever man and he was the closest thing your dad had to a father after his dad, and then his godfather Sirius, were successively killed. Your dad mourned Remus' death extensively and was consumed with the need to find and kill Dolohov. However, Dolohov was not one of the Dark Lord's best trackers for no reason and has since managed to escape notice.

"Recently, your dad heard that Dolohov had been sighted. Your dad immediately sent some men to the location and they have managed to pin him down in a certain area, and they are certain that it is Dolohov. That is where your reckless, idiotic dad has gone. He's gone to find Dolohov."

"Why is that bad? Dad is the Head Auror, and he'd have a team of Aurors with him."

Snape shook his head.

"Harry…" Snape shook his head and Alf was shocked to see tears in his papa's eyes. Snape coughed. "Harry wants to avenge Remus' death and he won't let anyone interfere, even at the cost of his own life."

Alf almost choked on his breath.

"Dad could die? Papa, are you being serious? Why didn't you go with him?" Alf shouted, standing up. "You could be helping Dad stay alive!"

"Alfred, you will _not_ address me in that manner!" Snape growled, but he didn't move from his seat. "Your high-and-mighty dad doesn't want you to be alone if anything happens."

"Please, please Papa, tell me that nothing's going to happen to Dad."

* * *

Harry gripped his wand, his faithful phoenix wand, tightly in his hand as he climbed through the debris in the house. His Auror squad had had to destroy almost the whole building to get through Dolohov's wards. Harry almost grinned. It had been a very long time since he had had a real reason to go out on a mission by himself, and chasing Remus' killer was the perfect one.

Oh, Remus. He sometimes wished that the old Marauder hadn't been so brave, so recklessly, stupidly brave and gone out to make the world a better place for his son. He had done his best by Teddy and had invested himself so much into his godson's life that when Teddy had been smaller, he had called Harry 'Daddy', until Harry had talked him out of it. It wasn't his place to be called 'Daddy' by Remus' son. He had to be the best father without being a father to Teddy and that was his right and his duty as Teddy's godfather. And he owed it to Remus. He loved the boy very much, of course he did, and he was honoured to be one of the people Teddy trusted above anyone else. He just wished that Remus was alive. Not just for Teddy, but for him. Why had Dolohov killed him? Why had Remus been so brave?

Harry gripped his wand tighter as he entered the darkest part of the house. Casting a _Lumos_ , Harry saw that the walls were tainted with _visible_ signs of Dark Magic. Dolohov had been here for a very long time.

"Well isn't it wee little Potty?"

Harry casually shot a Stunner behind him and heard movement and then he saw Dolohov, who had obviously been under a Disillusionment Charm. The ex-Death Eater was not in a good shape. Having worked in the Auror Department for fourteen years, Harry could see the taints on Dolohov's magic surrounding him, but despite this, the ex-Death Eater was still powerful and Harry knew that this would be a vicious duel and he intended to come out of it alive. His team was waiting outside and Harry knew that they were angry that he hadn't let them come with him, but this was a battle he had to fight by himself for Remus and for Teddy. And maybe a for himself as well.

"It is. But I suppose you haven't been updated, Dolohov, on my status? I'm married, you see. Privately, I'm known as Harry Snape. Now, doesn't that make you feel happy, knowing that you never guessed that your Potions Master worked for Dumbledore?"

Harry only narrowly avoided the Cruciatus shot his way. He felt the thrum of Dolohov's magic encircle him and he immediately pushed out with his own magic, knowing that he was dealing with the Darkest of Dark Arts. Magic manipulation using the Dark Arts was horrific, worse than the Unforgivables, and he had not seen anyone use it since the time of Voldemort.

"Are you already playing with fire, Dolohov?"

"Oh no, Potty, _you're_ playing with fire and you're going to burn."

Harry hadn't used the full extent of his magic since his maturation. He knew that he was powerful, but he had never seen the need to use the stores of magic his power had built up over the years. Looking at him, Dolohov could never have guessed that he was facing the man who had hidden his magical potential for many years.

"Oh no, Dolohov, I think that you're the one who's going to burn."

With that, Harry let go.

* * *

It had been two days since Harry had left Snape Manor, and Alf and his papa had been waiting anxiously for any news on Harry's whereabouts. Snape and Alf were sitting in the living room, going through Alf's holiday Potions essay together, when the Floo chimed. Snape jumped in his seat and seemed to freeze, and Alf, seeing that his papa would be no help, tapped the fireplace. The face of Hermione, who was very high up in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, came into view.

"Alf! Is your papa there?" she asked. Alf could see that she looked tense and worried, and his heart sank. He felt his papa's steady presence suddenly appear behind him and he looked up, seeking reassurance. His papa's face was devoid of any expression whatsoever. "Professor!" Hermione said.

"Is there any news?" Snape asked tersely. Alf grabbed his papa's hand.

"We need you to Floo to St. Mungo's. Harry is there."

"Is Dad alive?" Alf asked, as he called for the house-elves to bring their coats.

Hermione nodded before leaving their fireplace. Snape moved into a frenzy of action, giving orders to the house-elves and the grabbing Alf's shoulder. He vaguely heard the shout of 'St. Mungo's' before they were spinning violently, fireplaces flashing furiously past them. Alf felt a deep pit of dread in his stomach.

When they came out of the fireplace, Alf was momentarily blinded by a sea of flashes from photographers before his papa grabbed him by his robes and hid him behind his back. Alf heard a bang and looked tentatively from behind his papa to see Hermione stalking through the sea of photographers, looking murderous.

"I suggest you all leave before I order the Ministry to launch a lawsuit against every paper you represent. We will be giving a statement considering Mr. Potter at a later date."

"Is he alive?"

"What happened?"

"Is it true that he fought against five dark wizards?"

Alf hid his face in his papa's robes and felt tears fall down his face. His dad had to be okay. He had to.

"Will you all be _silent_!" Hermione shouted. "This is a personal matter, what do you not understand about that?"

While the photographers were momentarily silenced, Hermione proceeded to hurry Alf and Professor Snape further into St. Mungo's until they reached a neat, white office. She motioned for them to sit down. Alf sat on his papa's lap and felt the comforting weight of Snape's arms surround him.

"I'm dreadfully sorry for the photographers. We tried to keep it as secret as possible, but someone must have leaked it."

Professor Snape nodded tersely and then went straight to the heart of the matter.

"Tell us what happened."

Hermione glanced briefly at Alf, and seeing the determination on the young boy's face, she moved on.

"From what we've gathered from the Aurors who were there outside the building, Harry made his way inside. He found Dolohov quite quickly apparently, and soon there was some sort of _thrum_ of magic in the air. They say that it steadily increased as time went on. Then, about fifteen minutes later, the building burst into flames. They all ran towards it, casting Shield Charms and found that Harry was surrounded in a blue shield of magic and the fire had been Fiendfyre cast by Dolohov, intending to destroy Harry, but Harry had manipulated it. Dolohov was burning in his own magic, which had turned on him. Soon after, Harry collapsed and hasn't come to since."

"He manipulated Dolohov's magic?" Professor Snape asked incredulously. Alf looked up in confusion at his papa, who nodded at Hermione to explain.

"Only the most powerful wizards can manipulate the magic of others. Magic is innate, Alf. You are born with it and unless you cast specific spells to do so, you cannot destroy someone's magic. It's like taking away your right to breathe. Which means that only the most powerful wizards can manipulate magic. The Imperius Curse is manipulating someone's mind so that they can control someone's magic, but the person still has control of theirs. To be able to leave the mind intact and instead control the magic is something that we haven't heard of for many years. It is usually considered a Dark Art but is relatively harmless if used by the right person."

Professor Snape and Alf both looked a bit shell-shocked after Hermione's explanation, and she gave a vague smile. Snape was the first to recover, and he went straight to the point.

"What effect has this had on Harry?" he asked, and Hermione's only response to hearing him utter her friend's first name was to raise her eyebrow.

"Well, it seems that Harry has been keeping his magical power at bay for an astonishing amount of time, considering that all wizards who have tried to do so have gone insane; it's like not taking in enough oxygen if I go back to my example of breathing. This means that it has taken a toll on Harry to suddenly let go of all of his magical potential in one duel."

"What kind of toll?" Professor Snape asked. Alf was almost vibrating with worry in his seat.

"A physical one. His body is trying to adjust to the sudden onslaught of power by shutting down."

"Shutting down? What do you mean by that?" Alf felt his papa's hands tighten around him.

"To put it bluntly, the Healers tell me that his body was going to kill him because it was too much to have all that power come to fore."

Alf burst into tears, burying his face into his papa's shoulder. He felt his papa's tremors of fear in the hand that stroked his hair and he muffled a sob.

"That's why he told me to stay behind!" Professor Snape hissed. "He _knew_ he'd have to unleash his power and he _knew_ what it would do to him! The stupid, reckless fool!"

"I agree completely with you, Professor." Hermione took a deep breath. "However, we both know Harry very well. The magic that he _has_ been using is fighting against the power he unleashed and he is in a magical coma."

"Will he come out of it?"

"The Healers are almost certain that he will, it is only a matter of time."

Alf felt his papa relax against him and let out a deep breath. He started regulating his breaths to calm his sobs down.

"What about his magic?"

"The Healers are pretty sure that it will be fine." Hermione gave a wide smile. "He might have trouble controlling the power at first, but he will be fine."

"Thanks be to Merlin." Professor Snape murmured into Alf's hair.

* * *

Harry came home on Christmas Eve, having woken up from his magical coma to find that three days had passed. Snape and Alf had been at his side every day before that, and when he had finally woken up, Snape had kissed him almost desperately. After the initial relief had come a long and detailed rant from Snape about risking lives and Harry being too selfless for his own good.

As with every Christmas Eve, the Snapes went over to the Weasley household to celebrate. The Burrow was the traditional place they went to, and the huge table for all the family members was set out in the garden.

Alf had been very clingy to Harry and had only gone to play with the Weasley children when Harry had persuaded him that he would be all right. Snape led his husband over to where the adults were sitting and held out his chair for him.

"So the conquering hero returns!" Ron joked from his seat opposite Harry.

Harry sat down and smiled, looking over at his husband before speaking.

"I think that Severus would beg to differ."

"I do indeed. Recklessly wasting his life like that. And furthermore, not telling me the store of magic he had built up!"

Mr. Weasley leant forwards further down the table.

"Yes, Harry, please tell me how this has affected you."

Harry grinned and stood up again. He gestured for Hermione to stand up.

"As we all know, Hermione is the most magically powerful here apart from Severus. And me, now." Harry smiled sheepishly. "I'm going to ask her to Summon that potted plant over there, by the hedge."

"Why don't you ask Snape?" Ron questioned, leaning towards Harry. He had always been a bit reluctant to accept Snape as Harry's husband, but was now perfectly cordial to him (even going as far as a few chess games). He took great pleasure in calling his former teacher by his surname now.

"Because he's my bonded husband, what I'm about to do won't work, because my magic has interacted on a deep and powerful level with Sev's and I'd be tampering with my own magic in that case." Harry shot a smile at Snape, whose lips tilted upwards in the smallest of smiles. Hermione stood up and with a nod from Harry, wordlessly Summoned the plant.

* * *

Hermione knew that Harry was going to tamper with her magic –she just wasn't sure how. She had tried every way possible to block her mind and to block any other magical outlet from being tampered with and thought that she stood a pretty good chance.

As the plant started hurtling towards her, she felt a sudden, violent push against her magic and she fought fiercely against it, only to find herself fighting her own magic as it rebelled against her. She watched in horror as the plant was diverted against her will and landed beside Harry, who smiled apologetically at her. She was breathing heavily but nodded at him anyway. She felt her magic settled inside her again.

"What did you do?" she demanded. Everyone else at the table looked fascinated.

"I controlled your magic with your knowledge." Harry replied. She could see that his knuckles where white with strain and she glanced at Professor Snape, who nodded in her direction. He had noticed it as well. "I'll tell you this, it was bloody difficult. You put up a fierce fight." He smiled ruefully and Snape discreetly took his hand. Hermione always found it odd to see her professor and her best friend together, but she knew that they were made for each other in the epitome of opposites attract.

"How? I didn't feel like I was fighting you at all."

"Your defenses were extremely high and you were trying in every way possible to defend your magic and your core. Which meant that I had to tamper with the magic you had let out to Summon the plant to you. That's why I asked you to do that Summoning Charm, because it's the easiest one to tamper with as it's a direct path and you can see the path because the plant is following it back to you. Not many other spells require a reciprocal that way and thus it's harder to tamper with the magic. Now, because your magic was harder to protect once it had left your body, I merely let my magic interfere with the path of your magic at it's weakest point and thus diverted it to me. You were amazingly difficult to fight, though."

For the rest of that evening, no one talked about Harry's newfound power, but, as the night wore on and the children joined the adults for dinner, Hermione could see how it affected Harry, and by extension, Professor Snape and Alf.

Whenever Harry did the simplest spell, it was magnified in power and she could see how it worried Alf, who always asked his dad if he was okay afterwards, and how it amused Professor Snape, who smirked every time it happened. Despite this, Hermione saw how when Harry was about to cast a spell, Professor Snape would place a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder or any other part of his body, instinctively knowing that Harry was going to cast a spell, and Alf would smile supportively at his dad.

Hermione knew then that he would be okay.

* * *

It was late in the evening when the Snapes returned home. Alf looked pleadingly at his parents so that he could stay up later. He didn't want the evening to end. His dad was fine, his papa was back to himself, and their family was complete.

"Well, why don't we all curl up by the fire with a good mug of hot chocolate each, then?" Harry asked. "What do you say, Sev?"

Alf could tell that this would be one of his papa's good evenings, because he was smiling fully and didn't deign his dad with a sarcastic comment. Instead, his arms wrapped around Harry's waist and kissed the top of his husband's head.

"Why not?"

Alf cried out in triumph and made his way to the kitchen to make a cup of hot chocolate for everyone. He knew that he was the best at making hot chocolate in their small family –it was a practiced art, as he had often snuck down into the kitchens late at night to make hot chocolate, and had often been joined by Harry (who had always willingly joined in on any of Alf's escapades).

Severus and Harry made their way to their living room and curled up together on the sofa.

"Don't be such a fool again, Potter." Severus whispered. "I was worried."

Harry looked up in astonishment at his husband, who never usually admitted his emotions, and then smiled wryly. He squeezed Severus's hand in return.

"I knew how much of a fool I was when I started fighting Dolohov. I was just blind –I needed to avenge Remus' death. It cost Teddy and me more than we will ever admit to anyone else."

"Has he told you how much it cost him?" Severus asked curiously. He could hear muffled singing from the kitchen and knew that Alf would not have recovered if they had both lost Harry. He could only imagine how much losing Remus cost Harry, after previously losing Sirius.

"We have often talked about Remus and Tonks. You know how close we are."

Indeed, Severus did know. It was a deep bond that no one understood, forged through similar experiences. Severus knew that this was one thing that he could never understand, and moved on.

"I'm just glad you're back, that's all."

"I love you, Sev."

Severus hummed into Harry's hair and turned around as the door opened magically, revealing Alf, who was grinning widely.

"What did you do to the drink, imp?" Snape asked, standing and helping his son.

The three of them settled down on the sofa together, and Harry lazily waved his hand, and the fireplace burst into life. Alf looked anxiously at Harry, as had become his custom, but his dad merely smiled reassuringly.

"Calm down, bud. Nothing will happen to me."

Snape put an arm around his husband and son and looked into the flickering flames, sending out a comforting red glow onto the chimney.

"He's a Gryffindor, Alf. He loves us too much to leave us." When Harry and Alf were chuckling, Severus Snape murmured to himself, so low that neither of them could hear,

"I'd be lost if I didn't have either of you."

 **The End**

* * *

 _A/N: I hope that it wasn't too long, please do tell me if it was. I thought that Dolohov needed to have some sort of justice, as dear J.K. Rowling doesn't really tell us in detail what happened to him, and I was rather annoyed that he killed Remus (Lies –I was bloody pissed off!). Do tell me if you worked out why I changed Snape's name throughout. I purposefully left out Christmas Day –it's too private for their little family, and something, as an author who believes in the people coming to life, that the Snapes would appreciate not being published. But if you want me to write a separate fic with the same characters for Christmas Day, I would happily do so!_


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